


Need Your Runway Lights To Burn For Me

by geckoholic



Series: kink bingo fills [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And His Two Loving Doms, Background Poly, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Lace Panties, Light Masochism, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Oral Sex, Sub Jason, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 05:52:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12205170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic
Summary: Dick imagines Jason's cock, not only untouched but still trapped underneath fabric, delicious pressure adding to the sensations of getting fucked, and he gasps, just when the video breaks off. There's another text from Roy at that point, simply saying[he's almost ready, I'll be sending him your way soon].





	Need Your Runway Lights To Burn For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the _messy/wet_ square on my season of kink bingo card, and also, the JayDick server and said bingo card continue to be a fruitful combination. And a note on the pairing balance: it's a standing poly arrangement, but the actual sex in this fic happens mostly between Dick and Jason alone. I'm not opposed to coming back to said arrangement and maybe doing a full threeway next, so, hey, we'll see. This one isn't that, though. 
> 
> Beta-read by imightwing. Thank you!! ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Title is from "Safe To Land" by Jars Of Clay.

Dick's on the couch when he gets the text message, watching reruns on cable TV and otherwise not doing much with his free afternoon. He almost ignores his phone – he's seen that episode of House like fifteen times by now, but he _likes_ it – and he only reaches for the coffee table to get it because there's a commercial break anyway. 

The message is from Roy. A video, no added commentary, but it's sent in their private channel, and that alone makes Dick's blood rush south preemptively. They use that channel for one purpose, and one purpose only. He sits up and puts the TV on mute, inhales and presses his palm to his cock, and hits play. And ohh, Roy doesn't disappoint, of course he doesn't. 

Even though the screen starts out black, the noises are unmistakable: the wet squelch of a cock driving into a lubed hole, pulling all the way out and slamming back in, the harsh panted breaths, and it probably says something about how long they've been doing this that Dick can immediately tell Roy's and Jason's breathing apart. 

The obscene, telling squelch pauses, and Dick hears Roy's voice from the off, his tone low and gentle, encouraging. “C'mon, you gotta be loud for him. Show him how much you're enjoying this, get him excited. He'll fuck you all the better once it's his turn.” 

All Jason does by the way of a reply is draw in a sharp breath, and fuck, fuck, if he's already so far gone that he stopped talking back they must have been at it for a while. Which means Jason will arrive here soon, and Dick's got to make a plan, prepare... that thought gets abandoned when the phone is picked up and Roy holds it between their bodies, making it a clear shot of his cock pushing into Jason, just the tip at first, then he quickly bottoms out, and Dick is so distracted by that at first that he misses the blurred red... something at the edges. He waits for the video to focus, and taps the screen to zoom in. 

Jason is wearing panties. Bright red lace panties, the kind with a heart-shaped notch at the back that allows easy access without taking the whole thing off. And that's what Roy is using it for: relentlessly fucking into him while he's still wearing underwear. Dick imagines Jason's cock, not only untouched but still trapped underneath fabric, delicious pressure adding to the sensations of getting fucked, and he gasps, just when the video breaks off. There's another text from Roy at that point, simply saying _[he's almost ready, I'll be sending him your way soon]_ , and suddenly Dick is restless. 

He turns the TV off and rearranges the pillows on the couch, well knowing he probably won't use them. He goes to the kitchen to inspect his fruit bowl for anything rotten. He goes into the hallway to sort his shoes, put them away, line up the remaining ones with the wall. Jason usually finds it hilarious – after, that is, never during, he's too preoccupied then – that the only time Dick ever resorts to stress cleaning is when he's the second fuck of the day and waiting for Jason to turn up at his place. 

He doesn't keep track how long it actually is, but he's just contemplated to get out the dust cloth and really have a go at it when the doorbell rings. That's an unusual occurrence in itself; usually Jason doesn't bother _ringing_ , he just lets himself in. Dick jumps from where he's been crouching, giving the shoes another look-over, and nearly falls over his feet in his rush to get the door open and let him in. 

Outwardly, Jason doesn't even look much different. His face is flushed, and his pupils are _enormous_ , but other than that he seems... normal. Composed. Bored, almost. Except that he's also hard, budge prominent and visible in the unusually tight jeans he's wearing, and his gaze darts away when Dick looks at him, one eyebrow cocked, and licks his lips. 

“Did you he make you come?” Dick asks, trying to keep his voice casual, appear unaffected, even though he knows that's a lost cause. Roy is a little better at that, hiding his excitement, but Dick turns transparent pretty much on the spot. 

Jason sucks in a breath, eyes meeting Dick's again, and there's the slightest tremor in his shoulders when he answers. “Yes.” 

Dick nods, pleased. As much fun as it is to pass Jason back and forth between them without release, sometimes, Dick likes him better fucked out and exhausted. “Then show me. Everything off, save for the panties. He had you keep them on, too, right?” 

Repetition isn't a requirement, they're each free to do what they like, but sometimes he likes screwing with Jason's head. Maybe he'll make Jason recount every detail of Roy's half of the scene, watch him squirm and his face flush an even deeper, prettier red, or maybe... oh, he knows what he'll do today. 

Jason steps into the middle of the room – he won't be heading for the bed unless he's told – and starts shedding clothes. There's no tease in it, as that's also something that'll get ordered if it's expected. He simply lets his close fall to the hardwood floor without ceremony and so it takes him maybe a minute flat before he's standing there, naked but for a tight, flimsy piece of red lace. He crosses his arms behind his back, feet a hands width apart, head bowed. 

And that won't do today. Dick wants to see his eyes, wants to make sure Jason is aware that he's the center of Dick's attention right now. He walks up to him, unfolds Jason's arms and rearranges them so his palms are laid flat to his upper thigh, then tips his chin up so that Jason meets his eyes, and only then does he let his gaze roam all over his body. Jason is beautiful, in a rough, testosterone-soaked kind of way, even though he will always deny that compliment. He's strong, both in mind and body, and it's still a mindfuck of the highest order that he willingly lays all that strength, all that determination, down before Dick's feet when they're like this. He _surrenders_ , and that's not a word regularly associated with the man Dick has standing before him. It's a gift, a responsibility, he'll never take lightly. 

He doesn't know who had the idea of the panties, if they happened on Jason's initiative or were a gift from Roy, but they look _incredible_ on him. They're just this side of too small, look almost painted on as they wrap around Jason's muscled hips, accentuating the rise of his adonis belt and the swell of his ass, both of which are sight of their own on any given day. But that's not even the best thing; they're also barely big enough to contain Jason's erection, the outline of it clearly visible through the lace. The head – shiny with pre-come and sporting a lovely shade of blood-thick red of its own – pokes out over the elastic. Said elastic isn't clean anymore, either; nope, it's soiled by drying come, and it indeed looks like Roy made him keep the panties on, just like this, while he fucked him to orgasm. 

A throaty whine directs Dick's attention back to Jason's face, and he meets Jason's gaze again, quirks an eyebrow. “You don't have to feel self-conscious, sweetheart. I love when he sends you back to me already well-used and I get to figure out what he did to you. It's like unwrapping a present.” 

The endearment has Jason's eyes flicker closed, and that's why Dick used it, to gauge his reaction; if he weren't so far into the head space he'd protest, huff or give a snappy comment about not being anybody's anything. But as it his he just screws his eyes shut and whines again, and Dick has to take a deep breath of his own, arousal rushing through him like a drug. 

“Look at me,” he says, waiting for Jason to process the command and obey, the cutest little blush appearing high on his cheeks. 

Dick smiles, nods his approval, and steps behind him to continue the inspection. The skin of Jason's back is untouched, free of welts or raised skin, so that's a no impact play today. With that cleared, he moves on to Jason's hips, magnetized. He lets his hands dance over the edge of the panties, brushes his thumb over the space where the fabric begins covering Jason's skin. Then he dips them underneath the lace on the front, and pulls it away from Jason's cock just the tiniest bit, just enough to sweep his fingers inside and call the come-soaked mess clinging to the fabric from both sides back to the forefront of both their minds. Jason's breath quickens with embarrassment, and Dick gentles him with a kiss to the nape of his neck, whispering more endearments into his skin. 

His hands circle Jason's hips, slowly, until they're resting against the small of Jason's back. He lowers his head, forehead pressed to Jason's neck as he looks down, and only then does he realize that Roy sent him here not only with his cock half mast in messy underwear, but also wearing a plug. It's a small affair, maybe two fingers wide, but Jason will still have noticed it on every step, out in public, underneath his clothes, and Dick moans with the mental image. In wordless response, Jason shifts, widening his stance for better access, and Dick rewards him by carefully pulling the plug free. Jason groans, thighs trembling. His hole flutters closed around the loss and come trickles out after the toy, past the notch and over the fabric below. 

Holding his breath, his own cock pressing uncomfortably against the confines of his jeans, Dick works two fingers inside, testing the stretch. He allows him self a quick brush against Jason's prostate while he's there, giddy with the way that makes Jason's breath hitch, and then he pulls out and takes a step back. With a hand on his shoulder, he makes Jason turn, looking the rest of him over for signs of any other play. He finds nothing much, no bruises or marks, but Jason's nipples are peaked and swollen and Jason flinches and moans when Dick reaches up to flick one of them. And that's indeed always a good choice; nipple clamps look wonderful on Jason's well-built chest, his strong pecs, and Dick knows that Jason likes the building ache, getting gradually worse the longer they stay on and acting as a counterpoint to the pleasure from loving attention to his junk or his ass. 

And if Roy used them, so will Dick. He dislikes the idea of leaving Jason alone for even a second, but Dick is committed to his plan now. He lets his gaze slowly crawl up Jason's front one more time, to make sure he hasn't missed any other clues, and then leans in for a kiss, quick but filthy. 

“I'll be right back,” he says. Jason whines again, eyes widening, and Dick loves him so fiercely his chest aches with it. 

He's never wanted to protect something – or someone – this much, and that's only exacerbated by the knowledge that, outside of this, Jason is plenty capable of protecting himself from whatever life or underworld thugs might throw at him. And also, the distance between Dick's place and Roy's makes for a walk of maybe twenty minutes, and Jason marched over here while still teetering on the edge, deep in subspace; he's nowhere near helpless or dependent, even in a state like this, and yet Dick feels a vague sense of guilt when he hurries into the bedroom to get a set of nipple clamps from their toy box. They're plain, connected by a chain, and Dick knows from previous experience that they’re _effective_. 

He kisses Jason again as a silent apology for leaving him to stew on his own, peppers kisses along his jaw while he teases his abused nipples so they stand at attention, hard and peaked, ready for Dick to put the clamps back on. That produces a hiss, and oh, it's understandable – they ought to be sore, and the renewed pressure and sting must be so much worse than the first time. But Jason doesn't protest or complain, and in lieu of verbal praise he couldn't fully parse right now anyway, Dick sinks down to his knees in front of him. He looks up and waits for Jason to meet his eyes, and then he seals his lips around Jason's cockhead, still rock-solid and poking out of the panties. Never giving up eye contact he licks across heated skin, tongue playing with the slit and the frenulum, and doesn't let up until there's precome welling up, marked by the intensifying salty taste of it against his tongue. 

Dick rises to his feet, rubbing his thumb over the place his mouth abandoned. “Are you close? Do you want me to fuck you?” 

Chest heaving – he doesn't usually get to make decisions when they're like this, and Dick knows it makes him nervous – Jason nods, slowly, like this is a test and he's worried he gave the wrong answer. Dick smiles at him, as gently as he can, and leans in to press his lips against Jason's forehead. 

“Very good,” he says and steps around Jason again so that he's standing behind him. “Thank you.” 

But of course he won't make it that simple. Dick reaches between Jason's legs, gathering some of the mess of lube and come from between his cheeks, and dips just two fingers inside. He knows Jason's body well enough to be able to aim right for his prostate, and that's what he's doing, rubbing against it with constant and unforgiving pressure until Jason's breath comes in short, desperate pants, interrupted by deep and guttural moans. It must be getting difficult now to keep from coming, especially since he's not wearing a ring or anything else that might help him hold back on his climax. Pure, stubborn force of will is the only thing keeping him on the edge, and Dick is so, so very proud of him. 

Might be time to tell him just that. “You're doing so well for me. I'm so proud of you, and you really deserve your reward.” 

In order to deliver said reward, Dick unzips his jeans and pulls them down along with his underwear. He meets no resistance when he lines up, what with Jason already loose and fucked open, and there's the obscene squelch of a hole that was already filled once before when he pushes inside, balls deep, then hauls back so only the tip of his cock remains inside, and drives in sharply just to do it all again, copying Roy's pace from earlier on purpose. It doesn't diminish the heavenly feeling of the tight heat of Jason's body around him, though, and he won't be able to draw this out much longer. 

He slides one hand around Jason's torso and up to his chest, slowly so Jason can figure out his intentions before he follows up on them, and grabs the chain connecting the nipple clamps. Another vicious trust, getting himself so close to coming he has to bite his lip, hard, to stave it off, and then he's snapping his hand down, tugging the clamps off, and bottoming out at the same time. Jason cries out with the quick, vicious pain of having the clamps removed that way, but his body clamps down on Dick's cock inside him, and the noises he makes, moaning between labored breaths, are another indicator that he's reached his peak. He sways with the force of it, a second orgasm, standing up with no support, in the space of an hour. 

Dick doesn't let him relax; he shoves one hand inside the panties, swiping his thumb over the slit of Jason's cock. Jason winces, the sensation too much so close after coming, and Dick pushes inside him one last time, sinking inside him to the root, their bodies pressed together, and rides his own orgasm out with his forehead pressed to Jason's shoulder. 

He pulls out and wraps both arms around Jason's middle, smooths his palms over his stomach, his chest, still rapidly rising and falling, his breathing erratic. “Hey,” he says, fitting his body even closer against Jason's body, and he's grateful to notice that Jason leans back against him a little, letting him take some of his weight. “Hey, listen to me. Let's count together, okay? I don't need you to do anything else just yet, but I need you to count along.” 

Jason takes a shaky inhale, but he nods. This is when he's the most vulnerable; not during a scene, where he concentrates on obeying their orders and controlling the way his body reacts, but right after, when his head is empty and open to all kinds of intrusive thoughts. And as such, getting him out of subspace involves engaging his mind, at this point, makes that much more important than comforting him physically. 

Resting his head against Jason's neck, Dick draws small circles on his trembling stomach muscles, making a conscious effort not to form any kind of pattern, nothing that could be distracting. “One.” 

Jason takes a deep breath – Dick can the feel his body tense – holds it for a few seconds, and releases it, then parrots the number back at Dick. 

By the way of praise, Dick kisses his neck. “Very good. Two.” 

The same reaction: a deep breath, hold, exhale, then repeat the number. Dick has him count all the way to ten, closely monitoring whether or not the rhythm of Jason's breathing in between numbers is beginning to even out. 

Once that's the case, he ends the exercise and makes Jason turn around, cups his face, meets his gaze head on to check whether or not he's tracking any better yet. Jason looks back at him, blinking like he woke up from a dream and is only just beginning to be able to trace the waking world again, but he juts his chin out in determination and smirks, already fronting again. 

“Would you like to take a shower now?” Dick asks, letting go of his face. 

Jason's gaze flickers to the bathroom, then back to Dick, and he nods. “Yeah.” 

“Alright. Make it quick, and afterwards come join me in the bedroom.” He leans in to kiss Jason, pleased by the hungry way Jason kisses back, his hands coming up to rest on Dick's waist, now searching for physical contact. 

Dick watches him disappear into the bathroom, and busies himself with cleanup and preparations while the shower runs. He cleans himself up in the guest bathroom, texts Roy an all clear, picks up and cleans the plug, puts both that and the clamps back into the toy box, and sets cookies and juice on the bedside table. When he hears the shower being turned off, he undresses completely and sits down on the edge of the bed. 

Hardly a minute later, Jason emerges from the bathroom, naked, his hair still dripping, and comes to stand before the bed with his hands behind his back, feet apart, looking down, and albeit it's the same position his whole demeanor, the way he holds himself, already _looks_ different from when they started. But they're not quite done yet. 

Searching for his gaze, Dick smiles at him. He badly wants to drag Jason down to the bed, fold himself around him and hold him close, but the process they use to get Jason all the way back down is the result of long trial and error. And that's what this is about; what Jason needs, not what Dick wants. He contents himself with reaching out and stroking his fingers from the rise of Jason's bare hips to the swell of his thighs, up and down, a continuous motion. “Tell me how the scene started.” 

“I've been over at Roy's for a movie and some popcorn,” Jason recounts, with no fanfare or intention to tease – he's giving a report. “He invited me over. Halfway through he turned the TV off and went into the bathroom, coming back with the panties, nipple clamps, lube and the plug, and told me to undress.” 

They've been on some heavy missions lately, back to back, and Roy and Dick had been talking about this; not _this_ exactly, but about doing a scene. Making Jason unwind, pulling him out of his head. Using the authority he gave them over him, in this one aspect of their lives, to help him relax and hand over control for a little while. 

Jason looks at him, unblinking, focused, and some days Dick still doesn't know how he earned that amount of trust, that amount of _love_. All he can do, all they can both do, him and Roy, is trying to live up to it. “What did you like best?” 

“Having time with both of you alone,” Jason says, then shakes his head slightly, as if he's worried he said the wrong thing. “I mean, I also like it when it's all three of us together, when you're both there at the same time, but it's more... intimate than shared scenes.” 

Dick holds out a hand, waits until Jason takes it. “It's okay. Don't worry, you can say what you like, no one is going to hold it against you. I'm just asking to know what we should or shouldn't repeat, you know that.” He squeezes Jason's hand for quiet encouragement. “Did you like the panties? That was new.” 

“Yes,” is all Jason says in reply, gaze wandering to the side in embarrassment. 

Ignoring the reaction – the last thing Dick wants right now is to make him uncomfortable – Dick asks, “Anything you didn't like so much?” 

“The plug,” Jason says immediately, and Dick is glad he _did_ ask; it's not like Jason volunteers these things on his own, still thinking he messes up if he dislikes something. “I don't mind them when we're at home, but walking all the way over here with it inside was weird. A bit too much, you know? Knowing I was still wearing the panties underneath my clothes, and that I was still hard and that anyone who'd take a closer look would see it, that would have been enough.” 

“Noted,” Dick says, pulling Jason down to him with a tug at his hand. “How are you now? Do you need more time? Anything else?” 

Jason sits down beside him and leans in, initiating a kiss; something quick, chaste, not meant to get them going again, and Dick sighs with relief. Almost there. Almost time to hold him, lavish whispered praise on him, tell him all the things he won't listen to, won't hear, any other time.

“I'm tired,” he answers, after they part. “Can we sleep?” 

As he says it, he inches closers, seeking proximity, and Dick wordlessly pushes at him with a hand on his collarbone, signaling for him to lie back. He lays down behind him, head propped up on one arm, and points at the food on the bedside table. “Snack first. Then we'll go to sleep.” 

The eyeroll he gets in reply is the clearest sign he's gotten so far that Jason is easing out of the head space; attitude he wouldn't dare give while he's still drifting. Almost back to normal then, and hey, it's not like Dick has anything to complain about. He _loves_ that attitude. But Jason reaches over and holds up a cookie, making a show of putting it into his mouth, chewing, and swallowing, and Dick sticks his tongue out at him, watching him eat while rests a flat hand between his shoulder blades, gratified by the way he relaxes under the touch.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://lostemotion.tumblr.com).


End file.
